To cope with my sickness, she cries.
She cries a lot.
She cries when she peeks in on me and sees me sleeping so soundly, so innocently.
When I scream from the pains in my head.
When my brother and sister act out, because she knows it also causes them pain.
When I cry on the way to the hospital, because I recognize the route.
Because I am only a little girl.
She cries when someone offers her condolence,
lying in bed at night, alone with her thoughts,
because her mind wanders where it shouldn’t.
She cries at the compassion of complete strangers.
For the loss of my early childhood,
when she thinks too far ahead,
at the unfairness of it all.
She cries because my dad is the most amazing man ever.
Because none of our lives will ever be normal again.
Because I don’t understand why they keep letting people hurt me.
She cries because she can count on one hand how many times I have smiled in the last week.
For the loss of all of our freedom.
For the loss of my laughter.
She cries because she can’t make it better with a kiss and a band-aid.
When she see me bleeding from my nose, like a scene out of a horror film.
Because there is an enormous elephant in my room.
She cries because she has no answers.
For my curls that have been shaved from my head to be replaced with scars.
Because she doesn’t think our house is safe or clean enough.
She cries because the world has become a scary germ infested place.
For the loss of all control.
Because she is tired.
She cries because she amazes herself on how strong she’s become.
Because I am so brave.
Because she loves me so much it hurts!
My mother cries to cope with my sickness.
By: Nichole (Malia's Mommy)
We, a group of chosen mothers:
There is a new title that I have acquired
One that I would never have chosen myself
But chosen for me by the hands of fate.
I now belong to a group of chosen mothers
We were chosen with great care and deliberation.
We have patience, but not too much
so when the shock wares off of our painful fate
We will not drown in pity or despair
These children that were chosen for us
was not by accident.
The heavens could see our strength.
Hear our laughter.
A child with a life threating illness needs laughter.
We, as women
have just enough selflessness to survive
when blessed with a child that is less than perfect.
We know them as perfect.
The crying wares off
The initial shock is over
slowly putting the pieces of our lives back together
I found that I, We, are not alone
For I am part of a group of chosen mothers
We will be strong and help our children conquer.
(By Mlaia's Mommy)